“But will you promise to look upon things in a private way, not as a man and a ‘Creation Searcher?’ Will you go as Josiah Allen’s wife, P. I., which means Private Investigator?”
I declare, their talk was enough to wear out a snipe; and as I sot there hearin’ ’em go on, big, lofty idees and hefty aspirations began to tackle me. Truly the fires of persecutions are always fruitful of great idees; and while the storms of opposition, and Cornelius Cork and Solomon Cypher and etcetery was a ravin’ round me, I see a mission a loomin’ up in front of me, like a war-horse a waitin’ for me to mount and ride off to victory promiscous. And I spoke out in a noble tone, and says I: “No! I will not go as a P. I., I will go as a P. A.;” and I continued in still firmer axents, “I am not one of the whifflin’ ones of earth, my mind is firm and stabled, and my principles are high and foundered on a rock; if I go at all I shall go as Josiah Allen’s wife, P. A., which means Promiscous Advisor, in the cause of Right.” But Josiah whispered to me, and says he: “Let ’em put on the P. I., Samantha; it has a sort of a good sound; go as a P. A. and a P. I.”
And finally, after givin’ it a half a moment’s thought, and meditatin’ it wasn’t nothin’ ag’inst my principles, and would please my companion, I consented to go as Josiah Allen’s wife, P. A. and P. I., which bein’ translated from the original means, Promiscous Advisor, and Private Investigator. And bein’ dretfully worked up by more than a dozen different emotions, and almost by the side of myself with principles and everything—without mistrustin’ what I was a doin’—I riz right up and stood on my feet, and spoke right out about my mission; wavin’ my knittin’ work almost eloquently. Says I:
“When childern was a bein’ brung up, and mortgages was abroad, my place was to home, and to home I stayed. But when liberated from these cumberin’ cares, and mortgages was flown and childern growed up; my mind was a mind that couldn’t be curbed in, when great questions was before the world: deep conundrums that has puzzled the ages waitin’ for an answer, and them answers to be worked out by individual men and wimmen, by the sweat of their brows and the might of their shoulder-blades, says I. My mind was one that worked nobly for the good of the human race, and women; and on that great and lofty mission it took a tower. And now it is a mind that can’t be held in and hitched to the fence that cowards set acrost, while the conflict is a ragin’ on every side of ’em. The battle-field where Right opposes Wrong is a broad one, as broad as the hull world, and in every great warfare of principle there has been martyrs, from St. Stephen—whose body was stunned to death while heaven’s glory was a shinin’ out of his soul—to old John Brown who died faithful to that eternal spirit of justice, that old Error never could stand.”
Says I,—“Old Mr. Brown was none the less a martyr because he fell in our day, and has not been cannonized by the hand of old Time;” says I, “that same old warfare of Justice with Injustice, Freedom with Oppression, and True Religion with Bigotry, is a goin’ on now, and the spirit of Martyrdom is strong in me. Gladly would I lead on the hull army of the Right triumphant into victory, even if I fell in the conflict, and was drownded in my own goar. But such a crown of honor is reserved for a nobler and mebby a higher forward, but not a more well-wisher to the cause. And if I can’t head a army, and lead the vanguard on to glory and to victory, I can tussle with the little guerillas of wrong, that are let loose in society; I can grapple with the solitary pickets that Error sends out ahead of his army to see how the land lays, and if the enemy is asleep on a post. I can lay holt of his spies that are hid under the ambush of fashion and custom.”
“Any Advisor is a martyr more or less, for when was advice not scorned and rejected of men and wimmen? In my mission of Promiscous Advisor, I shall go forth, expectin’ to tread on the hot coals of public opinion; be briled on the gridiron old bigotry keeps to brile her enemies on; be scalded by the melted lead of old custom; and be burnt up on the stake of opposition.” Says I—wipin’ my heated forward—“I am happy in the thought.
“And I am ready to set forth to-night, or to-morrow, or next summer, not harnessed up in the splendid trappin’s of a Major-General, but in the modest mean of a humble militia officer, earnest and sincere, and therefore feelin’ as much self-respect, as if I was Commander-in-Chief over the hull caboodle. I can go,” says I—wavin’ my knittin’-work outward with as noble a wave as I ever see waved—“I can go forth with Josiah by my side a conqueror and to conquer.”
And then I sot down, for principle had tuckered me almost completely out; and while they was a votin’ on who else was to be the body, Josiah and I started for home. There was a contented look to his face, as he started off; finally he spoke out in gentle axents:
“I am glad we are goin’ to git home in such good season, Samantha. I guess we will hang over the kettle, and have a little bite of sunthin’ to eat; I didn’t eat much supper.”
